


What's Good for Me

by ellipsometry



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Body Worship, Comfort Sex, Frottage, M/M, Married Couple, Nipple Play, Post-Game, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsometry/pseuds/ellipsometry
Summary: The first time Felix calls Sylvain his husband is more than a month after the wedding.  He’s hesitant about it, embarrassed at the open affection.  And still – when it slips out, it’s as natural as breathing.My husband and I will speak about it,he tells a visiting dignitary.And let you know what we decide.Sylvain, seated at the head of the table, goes so hard in his pants he can hardly see straight.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 13
Kudos: 259
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	What's Good for Me

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [fe3h kink meme!](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=89564#cmt89564) :) amab/afab terms both used for fe, very mild dysphoria mention. thank u op for such a good prompt <3

The first time Felix calls Sylvain his _husband_ is more than a month after the wedding. He’s hesitant about it, embarrassed at the open affection. And still – when it slips out, it’s as natural as breathing. _My husband and I will speak about it,_ he tells a visiting dignitary. _And let you know what we decide._

Sylvain, seated at the head of the table, goes so hard in his pants he can hardly see straight.

Being Margrave has its drawbacks along with its obvious perks. Case in point: it’s easy for Sylvain to delegate his duties for the day and drag Felix to their bedroom, pawing at him like a man denied, like the horny teenagers they used to be.

“What’s gotten into you?” Felix teases as Sylvain fumbles with the doorknob.

“Nothing, my sweet _husband_ ,” Sylvain kisses under Felix’s chin, finally wrenching the door open, flinging Felix over his shoulder and onto the bed unceremoniously.

“No need to be a brute about it!” Felix says, but’s he’s laughing, pulling Sylvain down for a messy kiss. Felix has always been a biter, and Sylvain’s lips pay the price. By the time he pulls away, his lips are red, mouth swollen and wet as he trails down his husband’s throat, pull down the hem of Felix’s turtleneck to leave small red spots in his wake.

They’re both dressed up, an unfortunate necessity when entertaining nobles and foreigners alike, but Sylvain makes quick work of unclasping Felix’s cloak, his leather breastplate, eagerly pushing up his shirt, scrambling like a madman to get his hands on Felix’s tits, a perfect handful each. Maybe he used to be embarrassed about burying his face in between them like a man possessed, nosing through the soft patch of hair at the top of Felix’s sternum – not anymore.

“So sensitive…” He mumbles, biting at the soft flesh, relishing the small sounds it earns him. Felix’s hands fly to Sylvain’s head, fingers tangling in his hair as he whimpers, soft and breathy; satisfying like a long-awaited exhale.

Something about Felix’s body has always driven Sylvain wild – he feels so small trapped against Sylvain’s body like this, lithe and taut like a bowstring. The muscles cording down his arms, his waist, the small paunch of flesh under his abs, the way he jumps under every touch.

Except – this might be Sylvain’s favorite part, letting out a hot breath across Felix’s right nipple, pressing and squeezing the soft flesh. He smacks a loud kiss to the nipple, and grins up at his husband – _husband, husband, husband_ , his mind echoes.

And Felix, who has never been lost for words in his life, is conspicuously quiet.

He runs a hand through Sylvain’s hair, voice quiet but firm. “I could get rid of them. You know.”

It’s not like Felix hasn’t entertained the thought before – but this time, Sylvain pauses, attention hanging on the change in Felix’s tone, the finality of it. And he gets it. The war is over, they’re married and settled down and everything is as calm as it’s ever going to get. So, it’s not just an idle thought now. He really could get rid of them. If he wanted to.

Felix worries at his bottom lip, eyes looking anywhere but down at Sylvain, “But I—I don’t want to.”

A slow smile spreads across Sylvain’s face, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Felix sneers, though it looks more like a pout to Sylvain. “That’s it?”

A shrug, “That’s it. You know I love your tits, baby.” Felix goes to rolls his eyes, but they end up fluttering instead as Sylvain leans back down, running a hot tongue across a hard nipple, pulling it taut with his teeth. Felix bites back a moan.

He feels stupid when he asks. But he asks anyway. “You really mean that?”

Sylvain sighs, heavy, and nips at the edge of Felix’s jaw, “Apparently I haven’t made it clear how much I love every fucking inch of your body if you’re still asking questions like that.” He rubs his hand down Felix’s waist, fingers toying at the edge of Felix’s breeches. “I should be a better husband.”

“Sylvain,” Felix’s voice is wobbly with arousal and maybe a pinch of something else, body shaking ever so slightly under Sylvain’s hands, those clever fingers that know how to tease and push and pull him to the edge and back.

“You remember back at the academy, we use to sit in the sauna after training?” Sylvain undoes Felix’s belt buckle, pulling his pants down tortuously slow. “You never would go with me, and the first time you did— _fuck_ , you came out with just that tiny towel on. I wanted to fuck you so bad right there, slide my dick between those tits, so fucking slick and hot.”

Felix’s hands tangle with Sylvain’s, tugging at his breeches until they slide under his ass. “Sylvain… I can’t—” His voice cracks, face red and eyes squeezed shut. _Pathetic_ , Felix’s brain supplies. Pathetic for him to be so desperate and wet already. It still takes a second for him to push past that shame, to surrender himself to Sylvain like this, even after all these years.

But it’s worth it. It’s always worth it.

“Already so worked up and I’ve barely gotten my hands on you,” Sylvain tucks his head into Felix’s neck and smirks. “I love you like this. Love you all the time, any way.”

He takes his time working down Felix’s body, pushing his clothes away to reveal that soft, milky skin. Sylvain revels in marking him up, small bruises from the grip of his hands, hickies left on the top of Felix’s tits, on his stomach, at the crux of his hip. He wants to map every inch of that body, so—

“So perfect,” Sylvain whispers, reverent. “So perfect, and all mine.”

If Felix swallows down a small sob at that – Sylvain pretends not to hear. But he’ll lock that sound away in his mind for later.

Felix’s dress boots are, in Sylvain’s opinion, extremely sexy. But they’re also obnoxious at a time like this, running up to mid-thigh, making it difficult to yank down his pants and dive head-first into Felix’s cunt like he wants to. _So troublesome, if only—_

“ _Fuck_ , Sylvain!” Felix’s shout is less sexy and more _extremely angry_ as he looks down to see the ripped seam of his pants, exposing him to the cold bedchamber air.

“Don’t know my own strength,” Sylvain offers with a shrug. Felix bites his tongue (if only because he knows Mercedes will give Sylvain hell about that later. She was the one who had to mend his pants the last time Sylvain _forgot_ his own strength.)

“W-Wait, shit—” Felix isn’t prepared for the feeling of Sylvain’s fingers, gently padding against his folds, toying with the wetness there. It never gets _less_ overwhelming, the feeling of Sylvain sinking fingers in, thumb hot and insistent against the hard button of Felix’s dick.

“Love fucking you here, always so wet for me,” Sylvain dips his fingers further into Felix’s hole, crooking them expertly and yet not quite enough to bring Felix to the edge – just enough to tease.

“Th-Then fuck me you fucking—” Felix whimpers as Sylvain pulls out, mouth dropped open, as he pants against the bedsheets.

Sylvain just grins. His fingers, wet with Felix’s arousal, trail further down, until the pad of his middle finger is tracing Felix’s ass, that tight pink clutch twitching hot under his attention, “Love fucking you here, love hearing you cry trying to take me all.”

“Sylvain…” Felix feels tears sting his eyes, but he resists the urge to cover his face. He fists his hands in the sheets, white knuckled, pulling so hard he swears he can feel them tear.

Sylvain fumbles with his own pants, pulling out his cock and – _goddess fuck_ – Felix’s mouth waters just at the sight. He wants to get his mouth on it, wants to ride it for hours, teasing Sylvain until he’s the one crying. Wants this now, wants this forever.

“ _Fuck_ , Fe,” Sylvain strokes himself slowly, jaw clenched so tight Felix can see the veins in his neck. “You’re so good for me it drives me crazy, just want to be here all the time, keep you stuffed and satisfied.”

“Th-That’s extremely i-impractical,” Felix stutters out, eyes clamping shut from the sensation of it all – Sylvain’s words, his full attention, the way he always _encompasses_ Felix, until he’s completely surrounded on all sides. Felix has years of practice at escaping affection, kindness – Sylvain simply won’t let him.

“Shit, you’re—” Sylvain is losing his eloquence, and slaps his dick once, twice against Felix’s clit, watching him jerk and twitch in response, moaning at the shock of it. “I’m not gonna last long, babe.”

“Quick shot as— _ah!—_ as always,” Felix’s mocking is undercut by the jut of his hips, the way he jumps and arches as Sylvain grinds against him, dirty and wet. It’s instinct, maybe, the way he pulls Sylvain close, arms wrapped around him tight as he wails, fingernails scratching down Sylvain’s back. Sylvain buries his face in Felix’s tits, mouth latched around his left nipple, teasing him, flicking his tongue against it.

And when he bites down _hard_ – Felix finally comes, leg’s clamping tight around Sylvain’s hips, thrusting up against Sylvain’s cock until he’s shuddering and overstimulated.

“C-Can I?” Sylvain drops an otherwise chaste kiss to Felix’s forehead, fisting his dick, eyebrows furrowed in the way Felix knows to mean that he’s close.

“Come on,” Felix leans back, letting himself sink into the bed, melting like a puddle in the post-orgasm haze. “C-Come on my tits.”

Sylvain grits out a shout as he does, stroking himself furiously through it, sprays of white landing on Felix’s breasts, his nipples, inside the hollow of his collarbone. Sylvain keeps milking himself until Felix is sure it must hurt, but finally he goes boneless, flopping down on the bed next to his husband, their legs still tangled together.

Felix is – for once – the first to break the silence. “This isn’t comfortable.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain snorts, bringing up a hand to play with his own come where it’s drying on Felix’s chest. “Was really hot though.”

“Yeah,” Felix echoes, already daydreaming about the bath they’ll take after this.

Before that, though— “Thank you, Sylvain. By the way.”

Sylvain looks at him with those knowing brown eyes, and maybe Felix would hate him if he didn’t love him so much. _Fuck_ he loves him so much.

“No need to thank me for loving you.”

“Still.”

“Well, if you ever need a reminder,” Sylvain props himself up on one elbow, leaning down to kiss Felix slow and soft and sweet. “You know where to find me.”


End file.
